


Happy Holidays

by poisontaster



Series: Heart 'Verse [22]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Future Fic, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Permanent Injury, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-26
Updated: 2007-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisontaster/pseuds/poisontaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's taking a holiday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Holidays

“I’m not getting up today,” Dean announces as Sam comes out of the bathroom scrubbing his hair dry with his fingers.

Sam straightens and flips damp-slick hair out of his eyes. It's really getting time to trim it again, though this time he knows better than to put himself in Dean’s hands, since Dean always cuts it down too short. “What does that even mean, ‘I’m not getting up’?”

With his hair tossed back, Sam now has a much better view of Dean. In particular, the fact that Dean is sprawled out on top of all their blankets, still sleekly naked and patterned in the red and purple spoor of sex. In particular, sex with Sam. Dean props one arm behind his head, smirking and lazily gazing at Sam through the screen of his eyelashes while his other arm rests at his side, long-fingered hand stroking idly across his belly. Sam realizes Dean’s tracing the contours of a bite, scraping his nails lightly across the scoring Sam’s teeth left in his skin.

Sam shivers from more than the blast of cool air after the jungly heat of the bathroom.

“It means,” Dean says, sounding more smug and pleased with himself by the moment, “that I am going to lounge here in bed—barring bathroom breaks, because I know what a dirty mind you have, Samuel—“ Sam snorts. “…and I am going to do nothing, or as close to nothing as I can manage, _all damn day._ ”

And then Dean closes his eyes and snuggles—actually, honest to God _snuggles_ —deeper into the blankets with a deep and contented sigh.

“Dean.” Sam reaches over and grabs Dean by the ankle, shaking his brother’s leg. “Dean, you can’t just _lay around_ all day.”

Dean cracks one eye open. “Why not?”

 _Why not?_ Sam sputters, not really expecting the question. “Why not? How about ‘we have a house full of kids with classes today’?”

“Cancelled.” Dean lifts both arms above his head and yawns extravagantly, legs spreading and toes pointing. Sam doesn’t for one second believe it’s accidental, the way it draws attention to Dean’s cock, flushing darker and starting to harden like the diva it is.

“Cancelled?” This time Sam does choke. “Dean, you can’t just…”

“It’s a holiday,” Dean replies airily, letting his arms fall again. He looks completely decadent, the winter paleness of his skin not yet given way to freckle-speckled golden, his eyes all the brighter because of it. The light’s even generous to the gray in his hair, silver and gleaming.

“Dean—“

“No, seriously. It’s a holiday. Columbus Day or Black Friday or something.”

Sam puts his hand on his hips. “Okay, but Dean. You know we’re not that kind of school.”

“True. But that’s no reason that we couldn’t be today. C’mon, Sam, seriously. When’s the last time we took a day off? Or gave the kids one?”

And God help him, Dean’s actually starting to make sense. Sam thinks he must be hypnotized by Dean’s dick, lying tempting and full, the curve of it perfect for Sam's palm or Sam's mouth. "But…" he says faintly, mostly for the principle of it all, "we…have…things…to do."

It's weak. He knows it's weak. But Dean, goddamn dirty player that he is, is scratching the flat of his hip, knowing—damn well _knowing_ —that it's Sam's favorite place for his lips, his teeth, his clutching fingertips. That sweet little spot, where the skin almost never sees sunlight, startling in its pallor, the way the veins crowd to the surface, dully sapphire and the lack of the freckles that dot Dean everywhere else, except for that… _one_ …that Sam loves to chew and suck and…

"Well, _I_ don't," Dean licks and smacks his lips and then turns onto his side, presenting Sam with the sweet violin curves of his spine and the ass that still gets Sam up at attention like a seventeen year old. Dean makes more exaggerated sleepy noises, cozying himself deeper into the blankets again, a movement that does _really interesting_ things to his backside. "Maybe I'll take a nap."

Sam can only gape at Dean's back—or really, it's mostly staring at Dean's ass, let's not kid ourselves. It's so… _not like Dean._ Okay, yes, Sam usually has to prod Dean out of bed in the mornings with his own cane, but Dean's no more capable of lounging around in bed all day than he is of suddenly growing fairy wings and fluttering off over the rainbow to find the wizard.

The usual joke-jabs go through Sam's mind: _who are you and what have you done with my brother_ , the hand to the forehead and _are you **sick**?_ and, last but not least, the tried and true _Christo_ , but the part that Sam wants to touch isn't really Dean's forehead and Dean isn't acting _weird_ (read: sick or possessed) so much as he's acting lazy, sleepy and sexy…and what's Sam's complaint again?

Just then, Dean peeks back over his shoulder at Sam. "You could join me, if you want."

Sam's smile breaks across his face before he even thinks about it. "Oh, I can, huh?"

Dean rolls onto his back again and stretches leisurely, back to the half-lidded cat eyes. "Well, only because I am the awesomest big br…dude ever."

It's been a long time since Dean's slipped like that and Sam can't even remember the last time Dean's seemed this relaxed, this happy. Sam slips the button on his jeans and lets them slide down his legs. Dean's half-smile widens into full bloom and he tucks both hands behind his head, watching as Sam strips out of his jockeys too.

"Nothing, you said?" Sam asks, sliding down next to Dean on the bed. Dean wriggles closer.

"Well. _Mostly_ nothing." Dean bites Sam's chin, insinuating his leg between Sam's.

"We'll see if you still think it's 'mostly nothing' after I'm done with you." Sam reaches for Dean.

"I'm definitely feeling…something." Laughter trembles in Dean's voice.

"Damn right you are."


End file.
